The Only Side He Sees
by The Lady of Stryfe
Summary: One-shot, angst, Meryl POV. Meryl thinks about how she is always in the shadow of Rem. Implied M/V.


A/N: You read the summary. Do I need to do more, save apologize for any spelling and grammar mistakes, or overall bad writing? (I apologize for any spelling and grammar mistakes or overall bad writing.) It's Meryl's point of view. I don't know if all of the stuff I say happened in here actually did happen (most of it probably didn't. Oh, well), but let's just say it did for the sake of the story. Also sorry for any OOC-ness, I'm notorious for that.  
  
Rating: PG-13 for thoughts of suicide. If you're under thirteen, I don't give a (w)hit. Read and review anyway.  
  
Random Fact About The Authoress That People Will Read And Sweatdrop Because They Don't Care: I have the song "Holding My Last Breath" by Evanecence stuck in my head.  
  
Disclaimer: Don't make me say it! If I don't say it, it will not be true! But. I have to. I DON'T OWN TRIGUN!! Are you happy now, you sadistic lawyers? *Bursts into tears*  
  
And now..  
  
The Only Side He Sees  
  
By The Lady of Stryfe  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Rem Saverem.  
  
I know I should thank her- she did save the entire human race, after all. She was nothing but good, a literal angel on earth. I can't really blame Vash for falling in love with her.  
  
And yet.  
  
Why, why, why does she have to be so perfect? Whenever he mentions her and his eyes get all big and shiny, I know he's not really seeing this world- he's seeing another memory of her. Of Rem.  
  
Rem.  
  
The very syllable is enough to send me into a near drunken rage. I get the urge to fire all 50 of my Derringers into whatever happens to be unlucky enough to be in my way.  
  
But yet, I don't do it.  
  
I just smile, and pretend that his living in a dream world doesn't phase me. Do I have any other option? If I did let myself fly into a Derringer- blasting rage, He'd just scuttle away, muttering something about PMS, or worse, how Rem wouldn't have done that. It would be just one thing that makes me inferior to her in the eyes of Vash. What does he see in her? She's just too perfect! She makes Mother Teresa look like the leader of the KKK, for crying out loud! No one wants to live with a saint, right?  
  
Wrong, apparently.  
  
Everything he thinks, everything he does, all of his morals, his ideals- they all come directly from her. He won't change them for anything, not even when his own life is in danger.  
  
God, I hate that woman.  
  
Every time he sees me do something kind, his eyes cloud over and I know he's seeing her in my place. Not Meryl, the dull "Insurance Girl". Her. Rem. Even the time when that gun-wielding villager was going to kill him for crimes that he didn't commit, and I, Meryl Stryfe, NOT Rem Saverem, talked that crazy psycho out of it, he still saw her.  
  
I'm not saying I'm a coward, or that I value my own life above all else, but I don't put myself between a loaded pistol wielded by a very angry, and probably very drunk man and it's target for just anybody.  
  
But as I said before, I can't really blame him, can I? After all, who wouldn't rather see a beautiful goddess of life over a short, temperamental "Insurance Girl"?  
  
I wonder if he even really knows my name? Not "Insurance Girl" or "Meryl- Stryfe-Here-Representing-The-Bernardalli-Insurance-Society-Would-You-Care- For-A-Box-Of-Donuts-As-A-Token-Of-Our-Goodwill-?", those are just sounds and syllables that can be memorized but not truly known. But does he know plain, extra-extra-ordinary "Meryl"?  
  
But he wouldn't even want to, would he? Not while he still has HER to dream about. Sometimes I feel like smacking him over the head and shouting "She's dead, you idiot! She's been dead for over a hundred years, and she's not coming back! Living in a dream world isn't going to change that fact!". But I could never do that. Visions of Rem wouldn't mask that action. In his mind she can do no wrong, yet she steals the credit for everything I do that is right. As it is, Meryl can do only bad. It's the only side of me he sees.  
  
I've never really been one to 'hit the bottle', so to speak, but there are times that alcohol is a necessary release. There have been times that I just disappear for days on end and come back to wherever we are staying with a roaring hangover. Milly doesn't say anything- she just gives me sympathetic looks. Though she may act the Dumb Blond at times, there's not a lot that gets past her. Vash, on the other hand. Either he doesn't notice or just doesn't care. Either way, it's pretty depressing.  
  
I could end it all- one bullet from a derringer, and all the pain, all the hopelessness would be forever gone. The only thing stopping me each and every time I ready myself to pull the trigger- A vision of Vash, smiling, precariously perched on the edge of I cliff comes to mind. Hazy words flit like butterflies over my ears, repeating "Actually, I disapprove of suicide more than anything!" over and over again until I drop the gun out of sheer frustration.  
  
It's really ironic, isn't it, that the only thing keeping me alive is her legacy, passed on through Vash, while the reason I want to die in the first place is her hold on him?  
  
Fin  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
A/N: Well, that was my first attempt at angst. If it sucked, it sucked. If you flame me, I'll use the flames to build a giant bonfire that the creators of 'Survivor' will be so impressed by that they will send you to a deserted island with the ghost of Elvis and never pick you up again. If you liked it, tell me. I need encouragement because I'm new to the whole angst thing. Make suggestions for improvement, and I will re-post with the corrections and a note thanking you. *sigh* I'm depressed now. I need donuts. And sugar. *searches for donuts. And sugar* 


End file.
